syncopated.

come on feel the illinoise!

my life is no longer running at a simple 4/4 time signature.

the chorus has been sung. cue the instrumental solo. if you would please, mr. petrucci. furia taurina.

complications very simply just lead to even more complications. 2 years. oh god the opportunity is so great. it's hard to resist isn't it.

and yet.

i swear listening to radiohead makes you look at things from a different angle.

how to disappear completely

Strobe lights and blown speakers
Fireworks and hurricanes
I'm not here
This isn't happening

exit music (for a film)

Wake from your sleep
The drying of your tears
Today we escape
We escape

everyone's marching to different beats. people out of step with the fading time.

. . .

here's a change to rectify the situation.

as indicated by the lack of posts, my days have been quite jampacked recently. which is what makes me happy and keeps me going. returning to sailing, surfing.

like spring after winter.
like a cold shower after a run.
like the new leaf seldom overturned.
a swift change of melody, the renewal.
like waking from a long sleep.
the accelerator pedal depressed to the floor.

my last, dignified, glorious breath?

. . .

sitting at home studying over 2 weekends, i've realised how lucky i am to sail. besides keeping me out of trouble, i don't think i would be able to find something to do for every weekend of the year. besides studying, it's going on outings, getting a job, or, i suppose like most people, bum around on the sofa in front of the tv or computer screen.

last 2 days i've been a bit of rebel, leaving school early to watch a movie, and today going to someone's house. i won't be hanging out with those people very much more. i can't stand the stench nor the idea of them puffing away before me.

but today was fun because they dressed up to go into hwa chong junior college. funny shit. i saw them off before heading back to sch for my taxi pool to gym.

give credit to people like bryan hooi and wei xiong who have the discipline and patience to sit down and go through their work on an almost daily basis. they certainly deserve their grade 7s and places in harvard and the like.

as for lesser beings like myself, i have to get out and chase the wind. if only to console myself that i'm never going to have what it takes to be an ideal student.

The lower side is a jukebox
playing the deadman's crescendo
The needle is a vector
An intersection that we all must cross
A dimly lit hallway
where shadows of moths decorate the walls
Discard this message,
discard this message,
discard this message

Burn your city down

Discard this message
Throw this bottle back in the ocean
Rip this page from the history books
Smash all the street signs
Erase all the maps
Forget my name
Forget my face
Forget my name
Because it's gonna rain, it's gonna rain
and it never ends

We all sing the songs of seperation
and we watch our lives bleed out through
our hands
that's how it was on the first day
when we saw Paris in flames

. . .

thanks dear. for the present. the concern. the illinoise. the big fish. i do miss you... from time

to time.

Strummed at 11:06 PM (x)